


what I could have done in another way

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15578187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “Speaking of music," Hermann says, pausing to verify his suspicion, "Wasn’t the same song playing when I came into your room?”“It’s on repeat. It’s my sad break-up song.”





	what I could have done in another way

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born out of two concepts 1. a discussion about Hermann smoking weed 2. a mental image of Newt listening to "Lovefool" on repeat while being anguished about being single
> 
> This fic touches on both of these topics. Please note as a warning that they do engage in sexual acts while under the influence!

When Hermann enters his room, Newt is rather dramatically spread out on his bed wearing his clothes from a profoundly unsuccessful date earlier that evening. The only thing he’s bothered to shed is his tie, which is lying unceremoniously on the floor by his right hand, which is dangling off of the bed. The picture is only made more complete by the fact that he’s listening to “Lovefool” and has his left arm slung over his face, like an anguished romance novel heroine.

“Newton, this was a second date,” Hermann says in lieu of a greeting. He sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, not wanting to disturb his allegedly distressed lab partner. “Surely you cannot be that upset.”

Newt sighs rather dramatically. “I was optimistic. He was the one who asked for the second date, you know. And it’s been so long since I’ve been out with anyone.”

“Well, we are at war,” Hermann explains, trying to dismiss the desire to roll his eyes. It’s true that plenty of their associates at the Shatterdome date, casually, seriously, or otherwise. Many of them are even married or have families.

“Maybe I should be more like you. Throw myself wholly into work.”

Hermann’s not sure if he’s being serious or mocking him with the statement. He debates picking a fight, because that might be the best way to get Newt out of his bad spirits, but then he decides to stick with his initial plan.

“If you promise not to actively cry about your love life, I brought you something.” Hermann extracts a plastic bag from his pocket, which holds two carefully rolled joints.

“You brought it in a plastic bag? You’re such a nerd, Hermann.” Newt picks up his head, though. It’s an unflattering angle and makes him look as though he’s got at least two extra chins.

“Would you rather have something that’s been directly in my pocket?”

“Fair enough,” he answers, sitting up enough to take the bag from Hermann and shake the joints out into his hand. He passes one over to Hermann. “Did you bring a lighter?”

Digging through his pockets, Hermann produces the lighter. He takes his time lighting his own joint, gently rolling it in his fingers as he does. Only after he’s taken his first inhale does he hold out the lighter to Newt. Newt doesn’t quite have the delicate patience for lighting his joint, but he manages well enough.

Hermann flushes at the way Newt inhales, like it’s the most wonderful and desperate breath he can possibly take. His eyelids even flutter shut in something akin to pleasure or relief and when he exhales Hermann almost instinctively mimics the soft shape of Newt’s mouth. The only solution Hermann can think of is to take another hit to distract from the way he’s starting to feel.

“How did your date go horrifically wrong?” Hermann asks. “And remember- no crying about this one.”

Newt leans back against the headboard of his bed, carefully fluffing the pillow behind him. Hermann settles at the foot of the bed and takes the initiative to remove Newt’s oversized boots. Just because Newt doesn’t mind getting his bedding dirty, it doesn’t mean he should. There’s a small hole in Newt’s sock, which he has to pointedly ignore.

“The same way they always do. I was a bit too much for him, too enthusiastic, too blase about the horrors in his sheltered world, and I also may have spilled an entire bowl of soup on him because I was passionately shouting about kaiju at the dinner table.”

“Ah.” Hermann closes his eyes for a moment. There’s an odd pang he feels, the question of why Newt insists on this, dating other people when the perfect person for him is sitting right there. Then he remembers that he’s the one who dismissed that idea. “There are many topics of conversation you could pursue at dinner, I know you have more interests than that.”

“He didn’t even have good taste in music.”

“Speaking of music," Hermann says, pausing to verify his suspicion, "wasn’t the same song playing when I came into your room?” 

“It’s on repeat. It’s my sad break-up song.”

“My God, Newton.” He takes a deep breath, then thinks the better of it and lifts the joint to his lips. Might as well make each inhale worth his while. “It was a second date.”

“It’s more than that, dude,” Newt defends his choice. He looks charmingly petulant in that moment.

Absentmindedly, Hermann’s free hand finds its way to Newt’s ankle. He grips it and then rubs circles with his thumb.

“I’m never going to be happy with anyone,” Newt continues. “It’s like I’ve been ruined for dating forever.”

“That’s the marijuana talking, though I understand your feelings feel valid in this moment. You’re an attractive, intelligent man in his thirties, I’m sure someone out there can look past the fact that you’re a kaiju groupie who listens to hits of the nineties on repeat.”

“I don’t think the weed makes me feel undateable, but props for actually caring about my feelings.”

Hermann’s distracted, yet again, by the shape of Newt’s mouth as he exhales. That’s not how this game usually goes, but it’s been weeks since they’ve last- But it’s always weeks in-between.

“It does make you introspective, a rare occurrence for you,” he answers, once he’s conquered the feeling of weakness.

Newt rolls his eyes. “I’m always introspective, it’s just when I’m getting high I can think about all the realities where I’m not this disaster of a man who can’t keep someone around.”

“You sound really...pathetic, Newton. You’re one of the most accomplished scientific minds in the world, and you’re worried about a romantic partner?” Hermann raises a brow pointedly.

Shifting, Newt sits up. His expression is annoyed and deliciously tempting partially because of the fact that he’s annoyed but partially for other reasons altogether. “Some people want normal things out of the interpersonal relationships. I know you’re worried that if I date someone you’re going to lose a good lay every couple weeks when we both get bored, but I think you’ll cope.”

“Good is generous.” Hermann takes a very slow drag of the joint, then pointedly exhales in Newt’s general direction.

“You threw away a decent relationship and kept just the sex, I think we both know it’s better than good.”

Decent was an overstatement. They spent half the time fighting and the other half so distracted by each other they weren’t functional. But that was two years ago, wasn’t it? Things could be different.

“It’s wonderful stress relief,” Hermann insists. “Second only to this.” He holds up his joint. 

“Well, I think I might need some additional relief tonight.”

Hermann swallows hard and resumes his previous action of rubbing Newt’s ankle. “Your sock is really not sexy, I’m not sure if I’m capable.”

“My sock?” Newt asks, then notices his toe peeking out of the hole. He abruptly pulls his legs back and tugs off his socks, tossing them onto the floor. “Do you have any other objections?”

“The song.”

“The song is non-negotiable.”

Eyeing the joint in his hand, Hermann mulls over his options. He then stands, placing it in the ashtray on Newt’s desk. Remaining standing, he lifts his sweater over his head, so he’s only in his shirt, which he makes quick work of unbuttoning the first few buttons. Newt’s face shifts into a very eager grin as he slides to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not doing any more until you change the song,” Hermann declares.

“That’s emotional terrorism, dude.”

“So is listening to this song on repeat.” He crosses his arms, giving Newt a very determined look. 

Newt stands then, marching over to rest his joint next to Hermann’s as he sings along to the song. There’s something about the lyrics that twists Hermann’s stomach in an odd way and Newt singing along is both humorous and tragic. Newt twines his arms around Hermann, causing him to sway along with the music, their hips slotted together in a way that is enticing. It’s easy enough to imagine Newt as a younger, even more carefree man and the seduction techniques he’d use on others at clubs or bars or wherever he met his partners. But God, the song choice is terriblel in so many ways.

“Newton, I-” Hermann rests his hands on Newt’s hips, partially to keep him from moving. “I can’t do this tonight. Or again.”

“Is the song really that awful?” Newt says as he pulls away, trying to keep it light, or not assessing the gravity of the situation in his current state. “Or is it my singing?”

“You used to listen to this song and think about me, didn’t you?”

They both stand dumbstruck for a few moments, the truth settling in between them. Newt’s mouth makes a small “oh” of realization and Hermann suddenly hates how closely he watches everything Newt does. The song wails out the final lines-  _ As long as you don’t go  _ and almost immediately starts up in its next rotation.

“Used to is a liberal assessment,” Newt admits. “I’m sorry, dude. I realize you’re probably uncomfortable with that- my feelings. I’d assumed you sort of knew and knew that I was okay if they weren’t returned.”

“They’re not. They’re not not returned, that is.”

“Herms, dude. We’re both a little bit high right now, I was just sexy dancing on you, you’re going to have to be really crystal clear about what you’re saying.”

“I do have feelings for you,” Hermann clarifies. “But I’d assumed because you were starting to date other people, you weren’t interested in picking up where we left off.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And so are you.” He sweeps the room for his cane. Newt, kind even after being insulted, leans down to pick it off the floor, handing it over. 

“I want to pick up. Where we left off, or about five steps ahead where we don’t fight about our relationship and we’re naked,” Newt explains. “At least for tonight.”

Newt steps forward to finish unbuttoning Hermann’s shirt.

“You need to turn off this song,” Hermann says, pushing him away gently. In an act of good faith, though, he sits on the edge of the bed again, removing his shoes and socks, which he leaves sitting neatly along the bed.

When the song is done (at long last), Newt moves to stand between his legs. Hermann wraps his arms around his middle, pulling him close. He wishes this had happened when he wasn’t high, when he could really articulate everything that he’s feeling. He feels the paranoid panic set in as he presses his face to Newt’s soft stomach. 

“You alright, dude?” Newt asks.

Hermann glances up at him. His eyes are tinged red and kind and surely he will understand.

“If I have sex with you right now, I’m worried the universe is going to implode.”

“Implode?” Newt sinks down to his knees in front of him, a power balance shift. “You’re the one who understands space, Hermann, but I think we know that’s not true.”

“I am aware.” He narrows his eyes at Newt.

“It’s alright, man. If you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood.”

“But I am in the mood. I’ve taken my shoes off. And my socks.”

The grin on Newt’s face is simultaneously something Hermann wants to admonish him for and remember forever. 

“How about we compromise and I give you a blowjob?” Newt suggests. “You’ll be completely in control, so you can tell me if you’re being a high, paranoid weirdo.”

“Alright.” Hermann nods, a bit too eager.

Wasting no time, Newt leans forward, mouthing at him through his trousers. Hermann twines a hand in his hair, keeping a gentle grip. He feels himself start to harden under the light but firm touches. Newt pulls away, reaching for his belt buckle and making quick work of undoing his trousers.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” Hermann asks, gripping the edge of the bed with his hand. “It seems rather one sided.”

“Well, now that I know you want to be my  _ boyfriend _ , I trust you’ll repay the favor before long,” Newt answers rather flippantly, instead focusing on getting his hands on his cock.

Hermann’s first instinct is to protest and say that he can’t just assume the title. Instead his body betrays him and his cock, which is decidedly in Newt’s hand, twitches at the thought. Newt raises a brow but doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on stroking him to full hardness. He lays kisses along the shaft, open mouthed and eager, just a slight tease before he takes him into his mouth.

Newt reaches for Hermann’s hand, bringing it to the back of his head. Hermann knows full well that Newt loves the way he tugs at his hair, or grips on tighter when he does something particularly pleasant. Tonight, everything feels particularly pleasant. He dimly registers the shifting as Newt unbuttons his own jeans. As much as he’d love the pleasure of touching and pleasing him, there’s gratification in knowing that this alone can be pleasurable for him.

Giving into pleasure like this is all too easy, and Hermann feels his toes curl against the cold floor. The universe is not imploding, or exploding, but it feels very close to it in those moments, and he welcomes it. Newt’s head bobs easily, enthusiastically, and the things he does with his tongue should be very illegal, with how wonderful they feel. When he feels that tension building, he tugs hard on Newt’s hair as a warning. Newt moans around his length and when Hermann realizes he’s just come, he follows his own bliss after.

“Thank you,” Hermann pants, watching as Newt carefully pulls away.

“My pleasure.” Newt wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “How’s the universe feeling?”

“It feels aligned. Properly aligned.” He closes his eyes, taking a few moments to make sure he’s properly in his body. He is.

Rising to his feet, Newt pats Hermann’s knee. He licks his other hand, more in an attempt to be efficient than anything sexual.

“Use a damned tissue, Newton.” Hermann lifts his hips enough to slide down his bottoms, which Newt leans down to properly pull away.

Without seeking permission, Hermann slides up the bed and arranges himself underneath the covers. Newt strips out of his clothes, tossing them all carelessly aside before he joins him, throwing an arm around his middle.

“Glasses off,” Hermann mumbles as a reminder.

“Dude, I really just want to...see you. For a bit.”

“You see me all the time, we work together. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“No, it’s just different tonight.”

“How is it different?”

“It’s mine.” Newt leans up, just enough to take Hermann’s face in his hands and kisses him. When he pulls away, he looks profoundly smug.

Hermann eyes him skeptically for a moment. “We need to talk about our relationship tomorrow. When we’re both fully...ourselves.”

Newt scrunches up his face like he’s thinking particularly hard, and then gives in and puts aside his glasses, which also gives him a chance to shut off the light. 

“You are my boyfriend, right?” he asks, once he’s settled back in the bed.

“Assuming you don’t continue to go on disappointing dates with other people, yes.”

“Ooh, you were jealous.” 

Hermann knows Newt is grinning in the dark, but he’s not going to give him this victory. “Merely saddened that you were willing to settle for mediocrity. Now I’m your boyfriend, you’ve got the best possible one there is, go to sleep.”

His point falls on deaf ears, of course, because Newt is already snoring softly against his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Song title is, unsurprisingly, from "Lovefool" by the Cardigans
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ [pendragoff](http://pendragoff.tumblr.com) or at twitter @ [newtguzzler](http://twitter.com/newtguzzler)


End file.
